


Pit Stop

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Series: #666foryou [112]
Category: Damien (TV)
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Post-Series, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7425748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even in the middle of the night, the traffic is steady on the highway on the other side of the culvert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pit Stop

**Author's Note:**

> Date Written: 7 July 2016  
> Word Count: 490  
> Prompt: 13. rest stops on highways  
> Summary: Even in the middle of the night, the traffic is steady on the highway on the other side of the culvert.   
> Spoilers: Post-series, nebulously set in mid-to-late July of 2015, roughly a month after the events of episode 01x10 "Ave Satani." Beyond that, everything we learned in these 10 episodes is up for grabs.  
> Warnings: No standard warnings apply.  
> Series: #666foryou  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/   
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Damien," "The Omen," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Glen Mazarra, David Seltzer, 20th Century Fox Television, Fox 21, and A&E Television Networks. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Damien," "The Omen," A&E, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: This was a fascinating story to figure out. I'm kind of digging that certain people close to Damien and his sphere of influence are still able to appear to them, like some sort of guardian angels. This fits into my theory of who has always been meant to be involved in Damien's ascension to his birthright. And I still really hate that we never got to see Damien and Veronica directly interacting, because I think that would have been fascinating.
> 
> Dedication: This is part of a series of stories to thank the phenomenal creative team of _Damien_ , both in front of and behind the camera.
> 
> Beta: theonlyspl

The car goes eerily silent once I cut the engine. The lack of air conditioning becomes apparent quickly, if only because the humidity begins to seep in from outside. Expelling a breath explosively, I step out of the car, and instantly regret it. But it's too late to turn around now, and I can't take it back. Even in the middle of the night, the traffic is steady on the highway on the other side of the culvert. There are recently planted trees, but they're still too small to truly mask the noises of civilization.

Jiggling the keys in my hand, I walk toward the building built to look like some quaint log cabin. I've always found the motif to be silly, even a bit antiquated. Of course, the graffiti mars that intended look. The mosquitos and moths buzz around the caged lights, but none of them bothers me. People have always envied that about me. No matter what I did or where I went, the despicable little pests have never paid any attention to me. In retrospect, I assume that has something to do with my destiny. It's as good an explanation as any.

The restroom itself is relatively clean. The air fresheners and urinal pucks are fresh, the two scents vying for attention in a combination that is just gross enough to set my teeth on edge. I do what I can to complete my business as quickly as possible, relying on hand sanitizer when the soap dispensers prove to be useless.

Stepping out into the late night air, I stand and take a deep breath or two to erase the antiseptic smells of the building behind me. As I walk toward my car, I see her lounging on the hood. The tips of her long blonde hair brush the windshield.

"You're pretty quick at that," she says with a wry smirk. "You need to teach Ama--"

The moonlight glitters in the tears in her eyes as she can't even finish the name. Not that I mind. The memory of my best friend is still difficult. It's because of him that I'm taking this trip.

"I tried," I finally say, voice rough with grief. "You know, he just took even longer after that. He was kind of a perverse bastard like that."

She laughs then, sliding down to stand in front of the car. "He thought the world of you, you know."

"I know. He felt the same way about you apparently."

"I hated you most of my life."

"So I've learned from your mother. She loved you more than she loved--"

"Don't."

"Okay, will you accept equally then?"

She shrugs. "I suppose I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

Unlocking the car, I open the door. "You know, if you're going to haunt me on this trip, you might as well ride shotgun in his honor."

"I'd rather drive, but--"

"Nobody drives my car. Ever."


End file.
